Working Title: Saviors
by Yojimbo41
Summary: A sequel to Watchmen, beginning several years after the end of that story. A work in progress, in comic-book format. Please read the Author's Notes in my profile if you haven't yet.
1. The Resurrection and the Life

Chapter I: The Resurrection and the Life.

Cover page: The classic Watchmen clock face with Roman numerals; the hands indicate 12:05.

-

Page 1: Panel 1 (full-page): shot from above a green world orbiting a binary star system, other planets smaller and in relief on a star-shot, black background. There's a subtle happy face in the clouds of the foreground planet, but no blood-spatter is in evidence.

Near the bottom of the panel:

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,  
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

-

Page 2: Panel 1: (half-page): a familiar blue streak heads toward the planet. He's carrying a large bundle that's not quite visible.

Panel 2: (half-page): a grass plain on the surface of the planet, near a riotously-overgrown jungle. A large blue cat roams the edge of the jungle. A reddish-yellow-orange streak with a heart of bright blue flashes through the atmosphere toward the ground.

-

Page 3: Panel 1: Manhattan lands on the plain with Walter Kovacs' body in his arms.

Panel 2: Without putting Walter down, Manhattan raises a silica platform from the ground. The cat, in the background, sniffs the air in the direction of the two.

Panel 3: He carefully lays Walter's body on it. The platform is angled at one end to support Kovacs' head so that we can see his face from a POV at his feet. The cat begins to saunter toward them, approaching from behind Walter.

Panel 4: Manhattan places a hand above Walter's heart. A spark arcs between Manhattan's hand and Kovacs. The cat is closer, and starts in surprise at the spark.

Panel 5: Walter's body arches upward in response to the electrical jolt; he gasps involuntarily. The cat quickly lowers herself to lay so that only the upper half of her head and her ears can be seen through the tall grass.

Panel 6: Walter's eyes snap open in horror, and he lets out a long, drawn-out wail. Manhattan stands by impassively, his hands reaching down to below the level of the platform.

-

Page 4: Panel 1: Walter: "Jon! What...?" The cat's entire face rises above the level of the grass, her ears cocked, and she sniffs again.

Panel 2: Manhattan: "Relax, Walter. It will take time for you to recover. I know you have many questions, and I will answer them as best I can, but not now." Kovacs' breathing is hoarse and labored.

Panel 3: Bubastis stealthily moves up to sniff Walter's hand, which is hanging below the level of the platform. She rubs up against Walter's hand. (She subtly avoids Manhattan, keeping the platform between herself and him.)

Panel 4: Walter absently rubs Bubastis' head as he stares at the two suns in the sky. His breathing calms. Bubastis purrs.

Panel 5 (page-width): Tableau of the three, Bubastis in the foreground and Manhattan in the background, floating cross-legged in the air, a glowing blue Buddha facing Walter, the cat, and the reader. Walter lies with his eyes now closed, petting Bubastis.

-

Page 5: Panel 1: Same tableau, both suns having set. Rain falls on a dome surrounding Rorschach and Bubastis; Manhattan sits outside, uncaring of the rain falling on him. Bubastis sleeps in her original position. Walter's hand hangs from the platform above her.

Panel 2: Same tableau. Walter stirs. Bubastis still sleeps. Manhattan stands on the ground and moves toward Walter, looking down on him.

Panel 3: Walter, looking up at Manhattan, angrily: "Is this some new form of torture? What do you want?" Manhattan: "There is no point in torture. You were atomized. I have already done the maximum harm possible." Walter: "Hurm." Manhattan: "But if you want, I could kill you again, with hardly a thought." Walter: "Not just yet."

Panel 4: Walter, calming somewhat: "Well, then, anything to eat?"

Panel 5: Manhattan creates a platter with breakfast on it. Walter sits up as Manhattan places the platter between his legs. Bubastis stirs and looks up.

Panel 6: Walter eats slowly. He takes several strips of bacon and hands them down to Bubastis, who chomps on them contentedly. Manhattan returns to his Buddha position.

-

Page 6: Panel 1: Between munches, Walter asks: "Time for answers? And don't call me Walter." Manhattan: "Alright, Rorschach. I will start. Then you can ask me whatever you want to know."

Panel 2: Manhattan: "You are on the only human-habitable planet of Sirius, one of Earth's nearest neighbors. Based on certain calculations I've made, I believe it has been several years since you confronted Adrian." Walter: "Hold. You believe?" Manhattan: "I will come to that."

Panel 3: Manhattan floating near a large nebula. "For some years I roamed other galaxies, seeking new experience, new science, new life."

Panel 4: Manhattan floating in empty space, no visible astronomical bodies. He's holding his hands about a foot apart, and there is a glowing yellow torus floating between them. Manhattan: "I have gained knowledge that could advance your science and technology twofold."

Panel 5: Manhattan diving into a star, angry solar flares jetting away behind his point of entry.

Panel 6: Manhattan surrounded by hydrogen plasma. "I have been at the center of suns, witnessing the fundamental processes of the universe..."

-

Page 7: Panel 1: Manhattan outside the wheel of a black hole. "... and measured the gravitation at the edges of black holes."

Panel 2: Manhattan standing on another planet, looking into his hand at some insectoid lifeforms running around on his palm. [top] "One of the things I have not found, as yet, is intelligent life. I've only explored a small portion of the universe but have yet to discover signs of an advanced civilization other than humanity." [bottom] "This is not to say that it doesn't exist, only that I have not encountered it yet."

Panel 3: Back to the tableau. Bubastis in an attitude of listening, Walter holding up his right hand. "All very interesting but unimportant. What do I need to know?"

Panel 4: Manhattan: "All that you see on this planet I have created. The plant life, Bubastis, those clouds, the very oxygen and nitrogen that you breathe...and yourself." Walter: (in a small voice) "...created..."

Panel 5: Tableau, Walter with same hand on forehead, looking distressed. Bubastis has risen and rubs her head against Walter's other hand. Breakfast sits forgotten between his legs. Manhattan: "I thought to cushion the blow somewhat, but you insisted."

Panel 6: Once again, Walter absently rubs Bubastis' head. Manhattan: "It is true. I made you from the same essential starstuff of which all organisms consist." Walter groans. Bubastis mews in response.

-

Page 8: Panel 1: Shot of Walter's face: "Who AM I?"

Panel 2: Bubastis rubs her head against Walter's side. Manhattan sitting serenely. "You are Walter Kovacs, exactly as you were the last time we met."

Panel 3: Walter again, completely lost: "You killed Walter Kovacs. (in Rorschach's crazed voice) You destroyed Rorschach and helped Veidt to win." (reflexively, still in Rorschach's voice, but with even more reason for it this time.) "Don't call me Walter."

Panel 4: Manhattan, no less serene: "True. I returned you to your constituent parts. Think of this as my penance."

Panel 5: Walter: "Don't understand. How can I be Rorschach?" Rubbing Bubastis' neck, his only connection in a world that's suddenly gone insane (or more insane than usual).

Panel 6: Manhattan: (top)"That requires a complex answer. I will attempt to make it comprehensible to you." (bottom) "First, bear in mind that every cell in your body is an exact duplicate of Rorschach's."

-

Page 9: Panel 1: Manhattan: "You have every memory that was once his. Your behavior appears to be the same to an outside observer. I would expect your beliefs are the same, too. To all intents and purposes, you are Rorschach."

Panel 2: Walter: "Rorschach is dead. His soul is gone to wherever souls go."

Panel 3: Manhattan: "I have said before that I could detect no discernible difference between a living human body and a dead one. The fiction of a soul is a creation by those who fear the nothingness of death, or so I will believe until there is some evidence of its existence. You would appear to contradict that fiction."

Panel 4: Manhattan: "If it helps, think of yourself as Rorschach's identical twin, down to each memory of your previous life. Your experiences part ways at the point that I atomized him. As there are a Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II, so are you, in a way, Rorschach II, but much more directly than the others."

Panel 5: Manhattan: "And you will have the chance I denied the original Rorschach." (Walter looking quizzical) Manhattan: "Patience. I'll get to that, too."

Panel 6: (Shot of Karnak, Jon and Laurie outside in the snow) Manhattan: "Beginnings are difficult... During the last confrontation, Veidt used a stream of tachyons to lure me to his sanctum in the snow. Do you remember how I had to go to inform Laurie ninety seconds before?"

-

Page 10: Panel 1: (Looking at Walter over Manhattan's shoulder. Walter still looks confused, but nods.) Manhattan: "It was the tachyons that were hampering me. They effectively pushed me backward in time, yet I still maintained physicality in the present. They also, if you will recall, interfered with my vision of the past and future."

Panel 2: "Since that time, I've done quite a lot of experimentation with tachyons. You see, I've been away from the Earth for much longer than you would probably think." Walter: "How long?" Manhattan: "Almost a century, I think. Objective time is difficult to measure accurately."

Panel 3: (Mirrored-room view of Manhattan in empty space) Manhattan: "To avoid getting overly technical, let me just say that I've discovered several practical applications for those tachyons. One of them is responsible for my being here now. And, indirectly, for you being here."

Panel 4: (Walter stroking Bubastis' head, Bubastis purring quietly. He's looking down at her.) "Whipped us up, like breakfast."

Panel 5: Manhattan: "Cooked meat and vegetables are far simpler to duplicate than neural pathways. I would not say the task was difficult for me, but it was long and exacting."

Panel 6: Walter: "Need to walk." (He gets shakily to his feet and moves around the platform, hand out in case he should start to fall. Bubastis is at his side, his guardian, sniffing the air.) "You realize you've changed the future? I didn't exist before, and now I do."

-

Page 11: Panel 1: Manhattan: "That is the complex part. In and of itself, your creation is no different from a baby being born. However, there are implications which must have changed the future already." Walter (turning toward Manhattan): "And the sci-fi mumbo jumbo? Paradox? Always found that funny."

Panel 2: Manhattan: "I cannot say for certain. For all I knew, I could have erased my own existence by creating you...except that I'm still here, talking to you." Walter: "So you didn't foresee this?"

Panel 3: Manhattan: "No, I didn't see this until after my last tachyon experiment. One of the side-effects of tachyon exposure is that it blurs my view of the time continuum temporarily. I don't yet know what the outcome will be, as it pertains to me." (Walter tests his body, doing a deep-knee bend.) Walter: "Hurm. As we speak, you're sitting inside some kind of time machine?"

Panel 4: Manhattan: "Not exactly. In the future. And it's not a machine in the ordinary sense." Walter: "What if you encounter yourself...past you meets future you?" Manhattan: "That has not happened yet, but I try not to put myself into the situation."

Panel 5: (closeup of Manhattan's face with Hydrogen atom.) Manhattan: "It's possible I could reabsorb my past self, but I haven't tested it. I'm fairly sure I don't want to try."

Panel 6: (looking up at Manhattan) Walter (pacing, Bubastis sitting nearby): "Alright. Got some handle on the how. Now tell me why."

-

Page 12: Panel 1: Manhattan: "That, my friend, is simplicity itself."

Panel 2: Manhattan: "I was forced to leave Earth because I had supposedly caused cancer in anyone who worked with me closely. Do you know why I left?" Walter: "Sinking suspicion you're going to tell me."

Panel 3: Manhattan: "That assertion is plainly false. I had total control over my essence even then. No radiation escaped the confines of my intrinsic field in the time that I worked with Janey and the others. Their cancers were self-inflicted. I left because of the trouble that would be caused in the interim, and because many simply would believe it, no matter how much explaining I did."

Panel 4: Manhattan: "Now ask yourself, as I have, who would possibly stand to gain by my being away from Earth. Who could have started the original rumor?"

Panel 5: (Walter's face) Walter: "Adrian. Told me as much. Not self-inflicted; hired them all to work for a company of his, and exposed them to radiation. *Gave* them cancer. He wanted you away where you wouldn't interfere with his plans."

Panel 6: Manhattan, seemingly unmoved: "That is close to the conclusion that I reached." (Walter reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his mask.) Walter: "Suppose this mask is new?" Manhattan: "As is the rest of you, yes."

-

Page 13: Panel 1: (Walter taking off his hat and holding it between one arm and his side) Manhattan: "Alone, that wouldn't have led me to act. But there is something else."

Panel 2: (Manhattan floating in space with a shimmering in front of him and an image of what we assume is the Earth beyond that. The continents look almost the same, perhaps a bit different.) Manhattan: "Not long ago, it happened that I took to observing the Earth through what you would call, for lack of a better term, a magnetic telescope."

Panel 3: (Walter pauses, hands up to his head and just about to roll the mask down over his face) Manhattan: "I can detect few communications whatsoever emanating from the planet. What little reaches me are continuously repeating messages. Background radiation is off the charts."

Panel 4: Manhattan: "The world will be a nuclear wasteland, and your people will destroy it. Unless future history changes, Adrian's plan will fail spectacularly. And I must at least try to save what could be the only intelligent civilization in the universe." (Shot of Walter, his face dominated by a steely-eyed glare and a grimace.)

Panel 5: (Shot of Walter with the mask rolled halfway down his face. He speaks in Rorschach's voice.) Rorschach: "When does this happen?" Manhattan: "Based on my calculations of radioactive decay, the date of the apocalypse will be Dec. 21, 2012."

Panel 6: (Rorschach's face is now fully masked.) Rorschach: "Hurm. Twenty-five years? To change the future..." Manhattan: "More than enough time for you to put an end to Adrian's machinations."

-

Page 14: Panel 1: (Shot from behind Rorschach, showing Bubastis in the same position, this time licking her paw. Rorschach faces Manhattan, his fists balled at his sides, tension in every line.) Rorschach: "Millions of dead..." Manhattan: "You are the variable in this equation, a wildcard. Unless you manage to travel backward in time somehow, you are unfettered by any possible paradox."

Panel 2: (Shot of Rorschach, fist punching into palm in front of him. Bubastis startles.) Rorschach: "Two or three million..." Manhattan (out-of-frame): "I doubt you can do much about Adrian's victims, but you can save roughly seven billion more."

Panel 3: Rorschach: "Why me? No matter what you say, you could do more, without going to the trouble of creating...me." (Arm flourish to indicate himself.)

Panel 4: Manhattan: "Once again, I am governed by paradox, and limited in the adjustments I could make without ending my own existence. You are not. My risk will end with your creation."

Panel 5: (full-panel closeup of Rorschach's mask) Rorschach: "And what if I said no? Wanted to stay here?"

Panel 6: Manhattan (close-up, what may even be the brief flicker of a smile on his face): "I think we both know that won't happen. This is your fight, and I'm giving you the chance to carry it out."

-

Page 15: Panel 1: (Rorschach looking down at the ground.) Rorschach: "You're right, of course. Know me too well."

Panel 2: (Bubastis has rolled over onto her back, legs splayed for Rorschach's attention. Rorschach bending down, stroking her stomach. She purrs quietly. Rorschach looks up.) Rorschach, with surprise: "She's pregnant??" Manhattan (off-panel): "Yes. Her mate has prowled the jungle over there since we arrived here."

Panel 3: (Rorschach, standing up, looking at Bubastis again. He points at the jungle, speaking to Bubastis.) Rorschach: "Go on. Go home."

Panel 4: (Bubastis gets up, rubbing a farewell onto Rorschach's leg.) Rorschach, petting her: "Goodbye." Bubastis: "Arrrewww."

Panel 5: (Bubastis trotting off toward the jungle, still avoiding Manhattan; we see a bigger blue face peering quietly from the jungle.) Rorschach, to her receding back: "At least you have a place to live in peace."

Panel 6: (Rorschach turns to Manhattan.) Rorschach: "What else should I know before we leave?"

-

Page 16: Panel 1: Manhattan (close-up): "Not we. You."

Panel 2: (Shot of Manhattan floating from over Rorschach's shoulder. The cats have disappeared into the jungle.) "There isn't much more. I can only see what I have or will have personally witnessed, and I can't even see that right now."

Panel 3: (Same shot.) Manhattan: "I expect that Dan and Laurie are still alive, and probably still together. They'd be the logical place to start. I'd also wager that they're being watched by Adrian in some way, so you must approach them with caution."

Panel 4: (Rorschach in an attitude of contemplation.) Rorschach: "Right. May as well do it, then."

Panel 5: (Manhattan gesturing, a portal comes into existence in front of Rorschach. From Rorschach's point of view, the other side of the portal leads into a back alley in what turns out to be New York.) Manhattan: "Goodbye, Rorschach. I doubt that we will meet again." Rorschach: "Goodbye, Dr. Manhattan. And...thank you...I think."

Panel 6: (Rorschach steps through the portal. Manhattan is now on his feet. He says, to himself) Manhattan: "Nothing ever ends..."

-

Page 17: Panel 1: (Night. Rorschach appears in the back alley, surrounded by a dim blue glow. Windows are open in the tenements surrounding the alley, but no one seems to have observed his entry. Unlike Laurie, he seems to show no ill effects from Manhattan's teleportation.)

Panel 2: (The glow disappears, followed by a muffled 'pop.' Rorschach looking around.)

Panel 3: (Satisfied that no one has seen his entrance, Rorschach ducks behind a convenient dumpster and sits down.)

Panel 4: (Shot of Rorschach removing his mask and hat.) (Top) "Rorschach's Journal, Oct. 10, 1988." (Bottom) "Three years later, and the filth still sinks to the bottom, covering anything unlucky enough to be in its path."

Panel 5: (Walter carefully folds the mask and hat.) "Taint of old piss and decay. Funny how being clean heightens the smell."

Panel 6: (Overhead shot; Walter puts the hat and mask into the coat's breast pocket. Shot includes a flickering light bulb on the tenement wall opposite Walter. 'I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright...' wafts from one of the open windows near the top of the panel.) "No moon to light the darkness, only one overworked bulb above a rear entry. We have much in common, you and I."

-

Page 18: Panel 1: (Walter rubs his hands in the grime on the alley floor.)

Panel 2: (Walter's POV. He's looking at his now-grubby hands.) "Time to rejoin the unwashed masses, to soil myself with the failures of centuries."

Panel 3: (He runs his hands down his coat, leaving greasy tracks on it.) "Anointed with offal of human existence. Doubtful anyone around here could tell the difference."

Panel 4: (He stands up and wipes the rest of the grime from his hands onto the back of his coat.)

Panel 5: (Shot from behind Walter as he walks out of the alley, the greasy trails evident on the back of his trenchcoat.) (Top) "Though they don't ask for it this time...maybe even because they don't...I am become their savior." (Bottom) "To return to them their petty, incessant, incestuous lives."

Panel 6: (Walter turning left out of the alley, shuffling down the street. Mumbling, his head down, looking at his feet.) Walter: "The end of the world is at hand." (Crazed, subdued laughter, trailing off as he moves away) Walter: "Hahahahaha..."

-

Page 19: Panel 1: (Passing a walled-off construction area, a series of old, duplicate posters on the wall catch his eye. They advertise a benefit for the families of the victims of 11/2. Attached to one of them is a bumper sticker. The slogan isn't clear yet. A sign on the wall, above the level of the posters: the logo of "Pyramid Construction".) Journal: "First step: a base of operations."

Panel 2: (Walter stops at the bumper sticker and turns to inspect it, his back to the street. On it is the slogan "Change for America. Ford/Bush '88." A dog-eared corner of the bumper sticker protrudes from the poster.) "Where is Nixon? Did he choke on the weight of his own personal darkness? Or did he weary of the mantle of leader of the Free World?" "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown..."

Panel 3: (Walter reaches up and tears the sticker off.) "More to investigate. How else have things changed since 1985?"

Panel 4: (He folds it and deposits it inside the coat's breast pocket.) "Where to find Dan and Laurie?"

Panel 5: (He turns and continues up the street. A couple walks down the street toward him, about a block away.) "And what of my journal?"

Panel 6: (The couple sees him and crosses the street away from him, giving him a wide berth. Walter stops at the corner and looks up at the street sign. He shows no recognition of the couple at all.) Walter, mumbling: "Hurm. Penn Plaza that way."

-

Page 20: Panel 1: (Walter turns left from the corner and continues, shuffling, on his way.)

Panel 2: (He passes a watch repair shop named "It's About Time" with various clocks on its shelves, dominated by a large, circa-'80's digital LED clock hanging on the wall. The name is painted in the window, but doesn't block view of the large clock. It reads 10:34. In the corner of the window is a Help Wanted sign, labeled 'Ask for Matthew' at the bottom. He takes note of the time as he passes.) "The streets would've been much busier a few years ago, at this hour. Guess it takes time to replace millions of people. Maybe rents have dropped."

Panel 3: (Next he passes a subway entrance. Two young toughs lounge around on the stairs near the street level.) Tough #1: "Hey, Pops! What'd you bring for us today?" Tough #2: "Yeah man, whatchoo got?" (Walter quickly looks around, doing a creditable imitation of panic, and finds a convenient passage between buildings.)

Panel 4: (Walter backs quickly into the passage. The toughs follow him. As they lose sight of him, they hear the 'krrrak' of knuckles popping coming from inside the passage.)

Panel 5: (They enter. Watching behind them to ensure he isn't being observed, and in one fluid motion, Walter grabs both by the throat, one in each hand, their eyes bulging. Walter bangs their heads against the wall of one building. A crunching sound is heard.)

Panel 6: (With a quick glance again to ensure his anonymity, Walter walks out of the passage and continues shuffling the way he was going before he was so rudely interrupted, head down. The toughs lay crumpled on the concrete, unmoving.) "Subways apparently no safer."

-

Page 21: Panel 1: (Crossing the street. A car approaches within inches of Walter as he moves through the crosswalk. The driver, in a hurry, leans on the horn.) Driver: "Move it, Sluggo!" (Walter pauses, then shuffles on, never changing his speed nor looking in the driver's direction.) Journal: "Manhattan only partly right. Most don't deserve to be saved. So many chances to be moral, so few are." "Selfishness and lies at the heart of existence."

Panel 2: (The driver turns right when Walter passes, giving him the finger out the window. Walter's back is to the driver, so he doesn't see it.) Journal: "The fittest survive, the good die young. So it always was, so it will always be." "My fortune to be fit."

Panel 3: (Walter reaches the far corner.) Journal: "Of many billions that have lived, how many were truly good men? A handful? A thousand? A million? Never enough."

Panel 4: (Walter reaches the next corner. Madison Square Garden can be seen down the street. He sees a newsstand to his left and moves toward it. He's lost his shuffle.) Journal: "The world *should* die in hellfire. But not at the hands of Veidt."

Panel 5: (Several people are browsing periodicals, and a guy in about his late 20's sits on a folding chair near the stand, wearing the same fingerless gloves that seem to be ubiquitous among NY news vendors. An earplug sits in his lap, connected to a portable radio. A ConEd truck sits down the block, beyond the newsstand. A ConEd worker pulls some tools from the back of the truck. Walter wanders the length of the newsstand, hands behind him, acting like any other shopper.) Browser, behind Walter: "One Gazette, please." The headline of the Gazette is visible: "RIOT IN RED SQUARE!"

Panel 6: The latest copy of The New Frontiersman catches his eye. Adrian's face is on the cover, and the caption reads: "Campaign Finance: The Veidt Connection?". Walter takes one and thumbs to the article. He's at the far end of the stand, and as he reads he looks toward the street on the other side of the truck. A manhole cover sits on the pavement and a cordon and traffic cones surround the open manhole. Another ConEd worker is half in, half out of the manhole. The vendor reaches for a copy of the Gazette for his customer in the background.

-

Page 22: Panel 1: Full-page view of most of the first two pages of the TNF article, with the workers visible above the magazine. The left page's headline reads "MILLIONS IN CAMPAIGN CONTRIBUTIONS TO DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATES TRACED TO VEIDT!" The first paragraph is in large print, running the length of the page; the rest is in two columns and small enough to be unreadable. "Staffers of The New Frontiersman have learned that Adrian Veidt is now under federal investigation for illegal campaign contributions. Funds appear to have been siphoned through a series of front companies to some 50 Democratic candidates, including several would-be presidential contenders. More shady tactics by the left to suborn the political process." The right-hand page contains a half-page shot of Adrian in Ozymandias costume at a press conference, with the subhead, "Adrian Veidt announces his retirement from vigilantism. (File photo, 1975.)" Two more columns of unreadable text below it.

-

Page 23: Panel 1: (Shot from the street: Walter reading the magazine.) Journal: "Hurm. Adrian under investigation. World's smartest felon. If they only knew."

Panel 2: (Shot from Walter's end of the newsstand, showing the vendor approaching Walter from behind him. The vendor is six inches shorter than Walter and sports black hair and mustache.) Vendor: "Unbelievable, ain't it? He always seemed like such a good guy." Walter: "Yeh." Vendor: "So...you gonna buy that or what? This ain't no library."

Panel 3: (Walter turns an annoyed glare on the vendor.) Walter: "You gonna come up with a new expression? Every newsseller for the last hundred years has used that." Vendor (unfazed): "Yeah, well, it works."

Panel 4: (Walter reaches into his left coat pocket and pulls out a silver-colored money clip. With one hand he takes the top bill off of it and hands it to the vendor.) Journal: "Money too. Manhattan thought ahead. Saves 'forgot my money' act."

Panel 5: (Shot of the vendor's face.) Walter: "You got balls, kid. What's yer name?" Vendor: "John Kennedy Fitzgerald, but most people just call me Fitz." Walter: "Like the President?"

Panel 6: (Shot of the two talking, the newsstand behind them.) Fitz: "Yeah, my folks were big JFK fans. I was born the day he was elected President. All that hope and glory stuff. At least they didn't name me Flower or Thumper or somethin'. I been here since just after...well, you know..."

-

Page 24: Panel 1: (Same shot) Walter: "Bet it was a real mess around here." Fitz: "Yeah, it took 'em months to clear the streets. Here, though, they had it mostly cleaned up in a few weeks. They wanted to get things back to normal and get people forgetting, so the Garden was one of the first places they opened."

Panel 2: (Same shot, but Walter has rolled up the magazine.) Walter: "Bread and circuses." Fitz: "Yeah, somethin' like that. Hold on a sec, I'll get your change." Walter: "Keep it. And save a copy of each Frontiersman when it comes out. Gonna be around for a while." Fitz, smiling: "You got it, man."

Panel 3: (Walter nods and starts walking off.) Fitz: "Hey! What's yer name?" Walter (over his shoulder): "Call me Ishmael." (Fitz laughs at Walter's receding back. Walter heads back toward the corner he came from.)

Panel 4: (Walter crossing the street to Burgers 'N' Borscht. Fitz is sitting in his chair again.)

Panel 5: (Walter walks through the door. The Burgers 'N' Borscht is about half full.)

Panel 6: (Walter drops the TNF in a booth near the window where he can see down the street. The newsstand and ConEd workers are in view.)

-

Page 25: Panel 1: (Walter steps up to the counter. The cashier is wearing a name tag labelled 'Sarah'. She's shortish and chubby and appears to be in her late 40's. The lines in her face show some of the signs of a hard life but she seems a jovial sort. She stands behind the front counter and a cash register. Looks like your standard Mom-&-Pop fast food place...white sign with menu items and prices above in removable plastic lettering, rear counter with a wheel with a couple of order tickets hanging from it, cook behind that, back to the customers and working at the grill.) Sarah: "How can I help you, sir?" Walter: "Large coffee, extra sugar." Sarah: "Anything else for you tonight?" Walter: "That'll do it." Sarah: "Just a second."

Panel 2: (Shot of her with her back to Walter, pouring coffee and sugar simultaneously into a styrofoam cup.)

Panel 3: (Facing Walter now, she puts a stirrer into the coffee.) Sarah: "75 cents, please." Walter fumbles in his left coat pocket and gives her a bill.

Panel 4: (Sarah handing Walter his change, coffee cup in his right hand.)

Panel 5: (He turns away with his coffee without a word, left hand dropping the change into his coat pocket. He moves toward the booth and his copy of TNF. A TV can be seen on the wall in the background, above the diners.)

Panel 6: (Shot from behind of Walter sitting in the booth, facing the window. He stirs his coffee with his left hand while, with his right, he flips the issue of TNF open to the article on Adrian, and continues to read.) Journal: "Veidt killed millions and left no witnesses. But two million dollars? Stupid." "No percentage in messing with Feds. Bulldogs catch the scent, they stay at it."

-

Page 26: Panel 1: (Same shot. Fitz is closing up shop outside.) Journal: "Doesn't add up. What's the angle?"

Panel 2: (Same. The newsstand is locked up now and Fitz heads down the block, passing the ConEd workers as they move in the opposite direction, towards Walter. Fitz waves good night to the workers. Walter catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and looks toward them.)

Panel 3: (Same, Walter intent on his magazine as the ConEd guys walk into Burgers 'N' Borscht.) Worker #1: "Hey, Chollie, did you catch the Giants game last night?" Worker #2: "No, the wife and I were upstate visiting the in-laws."

Panel 4: (ConEd workers at the counter. Walter half in, half out of the door, heading back down the street, coffee in left hand and magazine rolled up and sticking out of his left coat pocket.) Worker #1: "Too bad. You missed a great game." Worker #2: "No, I didn't. I videotaped it. I'll check it out after work, so don't tell me..."

Panel 5: (View through the window of Burgers 'N' Borscht. Fitz is gone now. Walter passes the newsstand.)

Panel 6: (Same view. Walter has now disappeared.)

-

Page 27: Panel 1: (Shot of the front of the ConEd truck. Walter stands in front of it, hidden from Burgers 'N' Borscht, looking down the street.)

Panel 2: (Walter checking the street in the other direction and moving to the manhole. The traffic cones and tape still surround it, but the cover has been replaced.)

Panel 3: (The cover has been slid open to reveal most of the manhole. Walter half-in, half out of the manhole, climbing down.)

Panel 4: (Grating sound as Walter, still on the ladder, slides the cover back in place.)

Panel 5: Walter in an electrical access area, lit only by the wan light of the faces of several meters. He's now wearing his mask and hat.) Journal: "Almost too easy...like I'm supposed to be here." (As if he knows exactly where it is, he reaches into a shadow to open a door with a bang and a metallic squeak.)

Panel 6: (Walter's hand, pulling the door closed behind him. The door squeaks again.) Journal: "Darkness offers the embrace of an old friend."

-

Page 28: Panel 1: (The ConEd workers in a booth in Burgers 'N' Borscht, facing each other, eating and watching the TV on the wall to their left. A news anchor sits at a desk, reading the news. Inset: A video from the events in Red Square plays to the anchor's right as he speaks, Russian soldiers in riot gear confronting a wall of protesters, some holding signs in Russian.) News Anchor: "And now, in international news: Reaction by governments the world over to the deaths of 35 demonstrators in rioting in Red Square continues to be strongly critical."

Panel 2: (Full-panel: the TV screen. The Russian soldiers in the inset opening fire on the crowd, people scattering.) News Anchor: "No official explanation has been given by the Kremlin, but an interview with one of the protesters indicates that soldiers opened fire when a demonstrator struck one of the soldiers with a thrown rock."

Panel 3: (Same shot, but inset now shows Gerald Ford standing at a podium with the seal of the President on it, apparently from a press room in the White House.) News Anchor: "President Ford had this to say at a press conference this morning:"

Panel 4: (Inset now covers the entire screen, the anchor and newsroom no longer visible. In the lower right of the screen is the time in small print: 9:15 am EDT.) President Ford: "The United States government, and I, personally, condemn the actions of the Soviet military in the events of yesterday, in the strongest possible way. Soldiers were in no physical danger, but they opened fire on an unarmed crowd whose only 'crime' was to disagree with Soviet state policy. Secretary of State Kissinger has sent a strongly-worded communique to the Kremlin detailing our outrage at this violation of human rights. As yet, there has been no response."

Panel 5: (Back to the original screen, with the anchor, desk, and inset.) News Anchor: "International response has been equally strong and swift. The Kremlin has made no public statement regarding the incident other than to say that it is currently under investigation, and that they will respond when all information has been gathered and considered."

Panel 6: (Shot of the ConEd workers eating again.) "Chollie", shaking his head: "What's the world coming to?" Worker #1: "Hell in a handbasket, baby, hell in a handbasket. Pass the salt, willya?"

End panel: "One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night." - Kahlil Gibran


	2. Close Encounters

Chapter II: Close Encounters

Cover page: Sandra Hollis in her 'Duality' costume, standing on a rooftop at night, with the New York skyline behind her and a full moon in the sky.

-

Page 1: Panel 1: (Darkness.) Journal: (Top) "Rorschach's Journal, Oct. 11, 1988." (Middle) "Darkness within darkness." (Bottom) "The path to illumination."

Panel 2: Journal: (Top) "Feels good to wear true face again. The troglodytes will know who rules here." (Bottom) "Right leads to light. Footsteps echoing solitude, the dust of ages settling on my hands."

Panel 3: Journal: "Walls are cool and dry, ingrained with faint tang of old death. Rats seem to have picked the place almost clean of human occupation."

Panel 4: Journal: "Soon now. The light beckons, though it remains concealed. Curve in wall leads to station."

Panel 5 (Page-length): (Dim light reveals the subway tunnel; at the far end the raised pavement of the station can just be seen. Rorschach's hat and coat-clad back are shadows in the left foreground, against the wall.)

-

Page 2: Panel 1 (full page): (Rorschach at the end of the tunnel, peering around at the station. A burning oil lamp gives off the only illumination. Two homeless men sit on unrolled sleeping bags on the floor. A couple of cardboard boxes are nearby, against the wall. There's a turnstile on the wall between Rorschach and the other two, leading into another open area with an enclosed office and a booth, both barely seen in the low light. One of the homeless men sings "Doo Wah Ditty" quietly. The other, the one who would be facing Rorschach, is slumped, snoring lightly, in a sitting position.) Homeless Man #1: "There she was, just a-walkin' down the street, singin' doo wah ditty ditty down ditty doo..."

-

Page 3: Panel 1: (Rorschach climbing quietly up onto the platform.) Singer: "Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet, singin' doo wah ditty ditty down ditty doo..."

Panel 2: (Rorschach skirting the platform, moving closer to the homeless men. The singer hums the chorus.)

Panel 3: (POV from behind the sleeper's back. Rorschach looms behind the singer.) "Before I knew it, she was walkin' next to me..."

Panel 4: (Rorschach pokes the singer in the back. The singer jumps.) Singer: "Hey!"

Panel 5: (The singer lands on the sleeper, knocking him over. They end up in a heap.) Sleeper: "Mmmph?"

Panel 6: (Shot of the two homeless men, the sleeper looking confused and the singer fearful.) Singer: "Ain't no call to scare a body half to death, sir. We don' mean no harm."

-

Page 4: Panel 1: (POV facing the wall, Rorschach at the left of the panel, the homeless men cowering at the right, boxes and shopping cart to the middle, beyond the sleeping bags.) Rorschach: "What're you doing here?" Singer: "This's our place. We live here."

Panel 2: (Same shot.) Rorschach: "Hurm. Not anymore." Sleeper: "Who're you?" Rorschach: "Your worst nightmare unless you're gone in five minutes."

Panel 3: (Rorschach pulls two bills out of his pocket and holds them up.) Rorschach: "Otherwise, a dream. Fifty for each."

Panel 4: (The singer reaches for the bills, and Rorschach pulls them back.) Rorschach: "Like most dreams, you will forget me. Permanently. And you won't come back." Singer: "Anything you say, sir."

Panel 5: (Rorschach hands each a bill.) Rorschach: "If you should suffer from unfortunate memories, I will hunt you down." Singer: "Y-yes, sir. We got it." Rorschach: "And leave the lamp. A fair deal."

Panel 6: (The homeless men pack up their few belongings in the two boxes, pick them up, and head down the tunnel back the way Rorschach came. Rorschach has the lamp in his hand.) Journal: "Pathetic. Weak-willed and fearful. They are easy."

-

Page 5: Panel 1: (Carrying the lamp, Rorschach climbs over the turnstile. POV from behind him, the booth just beyond the turnstile and the office on the wall to the right. The windows of both are boarded up.)

Panel 2: (Rorschach at the office door, pushing on it. It creaks open without resistance.)

Panel 3: (He walks in and inspects the door. The office beyond him is about 10' x 10'; a desk and chair are pushed up against the opposite wall. To his left can be seen a row of file cabinets in the flickering lamplight. Everything is in some state of disrepair or vandalism.) Journal: "Lock broken but deadbolt intact and open. Favored by fortune again."

Panel 4: (He closes the door and locks the deadbolt.)

Panel 5: (He sits on the floor near the desk, and blows out the flame in the lamp. A clink is heard as he places it on the desk.)

Panel 6: (Darkness.) Journal: "More tired than I can ever remember. Must sleep. Tonight will be soon enough."

-

Page 6: Panel 1: (External view of a large house in New York. Large, two-car garage to the left, small lawn in front, picture window overlooking the lawn on the first floor, porch and doorway to the right. Two windows on the second floor, a lamp showing through the window on the viewer's right through white gossamer curtains. Mailbox on the lawn near the street, next to a short driveway to the garage. Small video cameras can be seen in various places around the property. The POV is far enough to the right to show the name 'Hollis' in white lettering on the mailbox. A wrought-iron fence surrounds the property.)

Panel 2: (POV inside house, looking over a comfortable couch and recliner toward the window with the curtains. A TV set sits just in view to the left, against the wall. Central Park can be seen through the window. Sam Hollis/Dan Dreiberg sits at the left side of a table with a breakfast setting for two, reading the front page of the Gazette. He's wearing a dark blue, plush robe and matching slippers. A couple of covered silver serving trays sit on the table, glasses of OJ, etc. An analog clock on the wall facing Sam reads just after 10:00.)

Panel 3: (Shot of the front page of the Gazette from Sam's POV. The headline reads "TENSIONS IN KASHMIR". The subhead on the left reads, "Hindus targeted by a number of rebel groups". A picture of two Kashmiri men holding assault rifles above their heads, cheering; the caption reads, "Kashmiri rebels celebrate their renewed pursuit of secession from India." The right hand column subhead reads, "Kremlin mum on Red Square rioting". Once again, the small print is just barely unreadable.)

Panel 4: (Sandra Hollis/Laurie Jupiter in plush purple bathrobe, pushing the top of the paper down; it's now folded at the crease, and the headline and part of the photo are visible, upside-down.) Sandra: "Good morning, sweetie!" Sam, smiling: "'Morning, sleepyhead."

Panel 5: (Sandra bending down to kiss Sam. Sam's hand reaching out to touch Sandra's arm. Both still have blond hair.)

Panel 6: (Closer shot, still including both of them, but the paper is folded and on the table to Sam's right. Sandra is seated opposite Sam now, pulling a napkin off the table.) Sandra: "What's for breakfast? I'm famished!" Sam: "Cheese eggs and sausage, toast, and fruit salad." Sandra, smiling: "Mmm...you take such good care of me."

-

Page 7: Panel 1: (Same shot, Sandra dishing up some food.) Sam, still smiling: "Of course I do; wouldn't want you to get wandering eyes. Besides, we need to keep our strength up. Adventuring takes a lot of energy."

Panel 2: (Sandra with the plate of food in front of her.) Sandra, between munches: "Awww...who else could match your mind? And how could I even think of a regular guy when I've got a hero?"

Panel 3: (View of Sandra over Sam's shoulder, still grinning.) Sam: "Well, there's always Adrian Veidt." Sandra: "Hahaha...that arrogant schmuck? I doubt he has time or feeling for anyone other than himself. Not to mention that I have a thing against mass murderers."

Panel 4: (Close-up of Sandra; she's lost her smile.) Sandra: "And federal investigations. Yuck...let's talk about something else."

Panel 5: (Back to a view of both of them.) Sam: "OK, how's your Mom doing?" Sandra: "Feisty as ever. I don't think she's happy unless she has something to complain about. The latest is a plumber that wants to tear up her front yard."

Panel 6: (Same shot.) Sandra: "Oh, and it seems she has a suitor! A new neighbor remembers her from her Minutemen days, and she says he's been chasing her since he found out she lived there." Sam: "Good for her. I'm surprised she doesn't have more older gentlemen calling on her. She was pretty famous."

-

Page 8: Panel 1: (Close-up of Sandra.) Sandra, eating heartily: "Well, she mostly keeps to herself these days. And she can be abrasive at the best of times." Sam, out-of-panel: "Oh, I don't know. She was very nice to me, though I did catch a hint of what you're talking about."

Panel 2: (Shot of both of them.) Sandra: "She was on her best behavior then. Besides, you were probably the best-looking man she'd seen in ages." Sam, smiling: "Why, thank you, sweetie."

Panel 3: (Sandra takes his hand and kisses it.) Sandra: "It's only the truth. Especially since you lost your spare tire."

Panel 4: (Sam rests his hand on the edge of the table.) Sam, looking down: "I miss it a little bit. It was like an old friend." Sandra: "Well, I don't. You're all sexy and hard now." Sam, grinning: "I'd better be, after two years of crunches."

Panel 5: (Shot from behind Sandra, standing in front of him. She holds open her robe.) Sandra: "I think that deserves a reward. How 'bout you?" Sam: "Definitely!"

Panel 6: (View from in front of them, walking out of the room, Sandra leading Sam by the hand. Her robe is open, hanging down and covering half of her breasts, and revealing that she's wearing only a pair of panties underneath.) Sandra: "I'll show you crunches."

-

Page 9: Panel 1: (The two of them standing at the other end of the hall, heading through the open door to their bedroom.)

Panel 2: (Sam closing the door behind them.)

Panel 3: (View from the floor, the dark blue and purple piles of their robes and slippers. Their lower legs and feet are the only parts of them that are visible, angled to indicate they're sitting on the bed.)

Panel 4: (View from the foot of the bed, Sandra lying on top of Sam, kissing him, and the bedsheet half-covering them. End tables and lamps to either side of the bed, with an intricately-carved headboard in cherry wood. A small, round table is flanked by two comfortable chairs to the right of the bed, in front of a window whose dark curtains are closed to keep out the light.)

Panel 5: (Same shot, Sandra now sitting up on Sam, reaching behind her under the sheet.) Sandra: "Oohhh, Tiger came to play!"

Panel 6: (Same shot, Sandra now supporting herself with her arms on the bed.) Sam: "You'd better believe it, baby."

-

Page 10: Panel 1: (The two lying in bed, spent, Sandra in Sam's arms. Sam kisses the top of her head and Sandra snuggles.)

Panel 2: (Sam's POV; he sees Sandra's 'Duality' mask sitting on a dresser on the far wall, leading to a flashback...)

Panel 3: (Their basement, a large wooden crate sitting at the far end. The front wall of the crate is open, with a very small part of one side of Archie being visible from this POV. The ceiling is very solidly reinforced and about 12 feet high; hydraulics can be seen in the ceiling above the crate. A computer server sits on one wall; two IBM XT 286 personal computers are on desks nearby, with comfortable-looking leather chairs in front of them. One PC is connected to the server, the other isn't. Another TV set is nearby. Several Nautilus machines line one wall. A worktable, safety lamp, and toolboxes are on another; obviously Sam's workshop. A large binder is open on the table, with drawings of what look like the directional thrusters used in VTOL aircraft like the Harrier. Beneath the binder is a large map of the subway system that's pinned to the worktable. Sam sits there, watching Sandra admire her new costume before a full-length mirror. It consists of: a short, zippered leather jacket and leather pants, each black on one side and white on the other; the line of demarcation runs straight down the middle of the front and back, and there are small screened holes down the sides to provide ventilation. One white and one black leather calf-length boot, to match each side; a cotton turtleneck blouse in the same design as the jacket and pants, one black and one white holster, each strapped to the appropriate side on the upper thighs, and matching cloth gloves. The mask is very similar in style to Rorschach's, but instead of his ever-changing pattern it matches the rest of her costume. Thinly-screened ear- and nose-holes match the color surrounding them. The eye-holes aren't screened. The mask sits on the worktable. Sandra stands in front of a full-length mirror.) Sandra, preening: "I LOVE it!"

Panel 4: (Sam rises and walks up behind her. He reaches for the black gun with his right hand and pulls it out of its holster.) Sam: "OK, time for the grand tour. This is a Model 1911A1 .45 automatic, with 8-round magazine. The small pockets inside your jacket can hold extra clips."

Panel 5: (Sam spins the pistol on his finger and replaces it deftly in its holster. Sandra shifts her weight to the right to make it easier for him to reach the other holster. His right hand rests on her right hip, just above the gun.)

Panel 6: (Sam pulls out the white gun with the other hand.) Sam: "Now, this one's my own design. It runs on CO2, and fires capsules filled with fine kevlar netting. The net isn't big enough to entrap an opponent, but it can definitely distract them for a few seconds if you hit them in the face or a hand carrying a weapon. It might even knock down someone who's running away. Range: about 10 to 30 feet. Inside 10 feet, the net won't be fully deployed when it hits. The clip has built-in CO2 charges, 5 shots per clip. I have three clips now, and I can make more if you want."

-

Page 11: Panel 1: (Same shot; Sam replaces the white gun.) Sam: "The leather pieces and mask are reinforced with sheets of kevlar. It should be able to stop most smaller rounds, and minimize the damage of bigger ones."

Panel 2: (Sandra turns sideways to the mirror; the ventilation holes are apparent.) Sandra: "Very flattering. And practical, too. I do believe you've thought of everything!"

Panel 3: (Sam behind her now, both perpendicular to the mirror, looking into it. His hands are on her stomach.) Sam: "Well, I haven't finished your rebreather yet, and even with the ventilation it could get warm in there when you exert yourself." Sandra: "Since we'll only be running at night, I doubt that'll be much of a problem."

Panel 4: (Sam flashes back, this time to the two of them sitting in their new kitchen. It's painted a khaki color, and the counters are tile matching the wall color. Packing boxes are all over the place. A portable TV on the counter shows the New Year's Eve Ball dropped and the year '1986' lit up to the cheers of the crowd.) Commentator: "I don't think any New Year has ever been as welcome as this one. May 1986 be full of prosperity and life."

Panel 5: (Sam and Sandra standing in front of the kitchen table, kissing and hugging, blocking the view of the TV. The crowd is singing 'Auld Lang Syne', of course.) Sam: "Happy New Year, hon." Sandra: "Happy New Year, Dan."

Panel 6: (They're now seated at the table, holding hands across it. POV is from the TV, so they can both be seen from the side.) Sam: "Do you realize you just slipped?" Sandra: "Hmm?" Sam: "You called me 'Dan'." Sandra: "Oh jeez, I'm sorry, sweetie."

-

Page 12: Panel 1: (Same shot.) Sam, grinning: "And you're the one who's always nervous about being seen. Alright, we need to agree on a few things." Sandra nods, looking penitent.

Panel 2: (Same shot, but they're not holding hands anymore.) Sam: "From this point on, Dan and Laurie are dead. We're Sam and Sandra now, in all things, at all times." Sandra (petulantly): "Sandy." Sam: "Sandy. But you get my point."

Panel 3: (Same shot.) Sam: "It's hard now, but we'll get used to it. I know I've caught myself almost calling you Laurie several times. We have to think of each other as the new 'us'." Sandy: "I know. It's just...well, like you said." (She smiles.)

Panel 4: (Close-up of Sam. He smiles back, taking her hand under the table.) Sam: "Good. Now, come over here. Let's talk about adventuring. If you're serious about it, we need to lay down some ground rules."

Panel 5: (Sandy sitting in Sam's lap, his left arm supporting her back and his right around her waist. Her right arm rests on his shoulders.) Sam: "First, we'll have to come up with new costumes and names for our alter egos, completely unconnected with Silk Spectre and Nite Owl. We'll deal with that later, once we've settled in." (Sandy nods.)

Panel 6: (Same shot.) Sam: "It'll take some time to make our costumes. I want you to promise me you won't go righting wrongs until they're ready." Sandy: "Of course...barring unforeseen developments." Sam (wryly): "That's what I'm afraid of."

-

Page 13: Panel 1: (Sandy, chuckling, with her hand on Sam's cheek.) Sandy: "Don't worry, dear heart, I won't go flying off half-cocked."

Panel 2: (Sandy's hand on Sam's arm.) Sam: "We'll have to be *really* careful. The Keene Act is serious business. If we get caught, they'll clap us in irons. And after Rorschach's escape, you can bet they'll put us where it won't be nearly so easy to break out. That means we go out only at night, and do everything we can to remain anonymous, costumes or not."

Panel 3: (View facing Sam, Sandy on the left side) Sandy: "What about Archie? We might as well hang signs around our necks." Sam: "I'll see what I can do about that, but until then, we'll have to use him only in the direst of need. We have the hoverbikes, if necessary." Sandy: "Alright."

Panel 4: (Same shot.) Sam: "It goes without saying that we can't tell anyone about this, not even your Mom." Sandy: "Mmm...that'll be tough, but I think I can manage. She'd love it." Sam: "She wouldn't love getting a subpoena, I'll bet." Sandra: "OK, OK, I get it. All of it."

Panel 5: (Sandy standing in front of the table, facing Dan.) Sandy: "(sigh) Well, these boxes won't unpack themselves. Want to get to it?" Sam (chuckling): "Not really. But let's do it anyway."

Panel 6: (Sam and Sandy in the mirror again, she in her 'Duality' costume, her hands around his back and his on her belly. Sandy squeezes him.) Sandy: "Hey...anybody home?" Sam: "Sorry, I was just remembering Moving Day."

-

Page 14: Panel 1: (Sam goes back to the workbench and picks up Sandy's mask.) Sam: "Want to try on your mask? Let's see the full effect."

Panel 2: (Sandy puts on her mask and assumes a gunslinger pose, hands over guns.) Sandy (slightly muffled): "This town's not big enough for the both of us, Marshal!"

Panel 3: Sam (chuckling and raising his hands): "Alright, Annie Oakley, you got me." Sandy: "Hahaha." Sam: "Oh, and we can see about getting you some goggles, too, if you want." Sandy: "No, thanks, I'm already wearing enough hardware for now. I can see through this just fine."

Panel 4: (Sam indicates a manikin standing near the back wall.) Sam: "Want to take a few practice shots with the net gun? It'll take some getting used to." (Sandy pulls her mask off.) Sandy: "Sure."

Panel 5: (Sam sitting on a stool at his workbench, Sandy and the manikin in the foreground.) Sam: "The capsules are slower than bullets. They'll tend to drop more quickly in flight, so you'll want to aim a little bit above your intended target." Sandy: "A little Kentucky windage, eh? OK."

Panel 6: (Sandy in balanced shooting stance, facing the manikin, net gun in her right hand. She fires and hits the manikin's face on her first try.) Sandy: "Hey, this is really light!" Sam: "It's mostly plastic. Nice shot, by the way. Now back up some and aim for a hand."

-

Page 15: Panel 1: (Sandy fires again, this time just a little low, missing the manikin's right hand.) Sam: "The longer the range, the more you'll need to correct."

Panel 2: (Sandy turns a little and fires from behind her back, this time hitting the manikin's right hand.) Sandy, grinning: "Like that?" Sam: "Yes, that should do."

Panel 3: (Sandy squeezes off the last two shots in the clip, this time in regular firing position; one hits the manikin's left hand and the last hits its feet.) Sam: "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you've fired a gun before." Sandy, still grinning: "Eh, maybe once or twice. Which brings something up. The net gun...it's going to be awkward drawing that with my offhand." Sam: "Well, you could learn to fire it with your left hand, or just draw with the left and switch to the right. It doesn't have a lot of recoil, so I'd suggest the former.

Panel 4: (Close-up of Sam) Sam: "Tactically, it's better if you have the .45 available to your firing hand...just in case. We wouldn't want you getting shot trying to draw it from your off side, and I don't think it's a good idea to have the handgrip pointing forward. Too much of an enticement for an opponent to try to grab it from its holster."

Panel 5: (Shot of both; Sandy's now facing Sam.) Sandy: "Wow...you really do think of everything!" Sam, chuckling: "Well, I try. Protecting you is a good motivator."

Panel 6: (Sandy saunters up to Sam.) Sandy: "That's what all the incredibly handsome, brilliant guys say." (Sam grins and hugs her.) Sam: "We'll see about building a firing range down here eventually. Until then, I guess we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way, find a gun club or something."

-

Page 16: Panel 1: (Sam holds Sandy loosely around her back, so he can see her at a little distance.) Sam: "Are you still set on 'Duality' for your name?" Sandy: "I think it fits just perfectly. We lead a double life anyway, why not refer to it? 'I am Duality.'" Sam: "How about 'The Dualist?' Or 'Double Trouble?' Sandy, laughing: "No, I like Duality. Beats some moldy old Greek's name."

Panel 2: (Sam, affecting mock hurt.) Sam: "I'll have you know, Palamedes is an important figure in Greek mythology. Virgil and Plato wrote of him. He invented the majority of the Greek alphabet, currency, weights and measures, and more. He even talked Odysseus into fighting the Trojan War." Sandy: "Well, you are a silver-tongued devil."

Panel 3: Sam, grinning again: "Only for you, sweetie." Sandy: "Hey...where's your costume?" Sam: "Not finished yet; it'll be ready in a day or two." Sandy: "Well, hurry. I'm feeling the itch for adventure." Sam: "Patience, Prudence."

Panel 4: (Sandy kisses him.) Sandy: "That's not one of my stronger virtues." Sam: "Well, then, you should practice it, and it will be." Sandy: "Hurry anyway." Sam: "Only for you."

Panel 5: (Return to the present: Sam and Sandy, lolling in bed.)

Panel 6: (Sam gently and carefully extricates himself and gets up from the bed, leaving Sandy snoozing.)

-

Page 17: Panel 1: (Interior of Adrian Veidt's office at Karnak. He wears his Ozymandias costume and sits in a comfortable leather chair at his desk, a computer console to his left, desk set in the middle, and a small pyramid off the upper right corner of the desk set. A multiline phone sits to his far right. A small, black-and-white monitor sits next to the phone. Right now, it's grey. The chair is swiveled to the right; he's looking out of the office window at the Antarctic landscape.)

Panel 2: (Voice coming from the phone intercom. It's Adrian's personal assistant, Stefan Schmidt. His face appears in the monitor next to the phone. The Veidt logo is on the wall behind him.) Stefan: "Mr. Veidt? I have Mr. Samuels on line 1." (Adrian presses the phone's speaker button.) Adrian: "Thank you, Stefan."

Panel 3: (POV looking across the desk at Adrian. A copy of the latest New Frontiersman issue sits atop the desk in front of him, open to the article about Adrian.) Adrian: "John...how are things going over there?" Samuels: "Busy, sir. We anticipated your call. I have assistants preparing briefs already." Adrian: "Excellent. I want libel charges brought against The New Frontiersman, and a restraining order against further publication of the story. And I want them litigated out of existence. Bury them under piles of documents." Samuels: "Yes, Mr. Veidt."

Panel 4: (Same shot.) Adrian: "I'd also like phone numbers for the Director of the FBI and the Director of its Criminal Investigative Division." Samuels: "Just a second." (Sound of shuffling papers.) "I'll facsimile those over to you as soon as we're finished. However, I wouldn't suggest you actually call them. Let us take care of that for you."

Panel 5: (Adrian has swiveled his chair to face the magazine.) Adrian: "Don't worry. I'll get to the bottom of this without endangering our position. I'll get back to you to let you know what I've learned." Samuels: "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Adrian: "Goodbye, John." Samuels: "Goodbye, Mr. Veidt."

Panel 6: (Interior of Samuels' office in a high-rise overlooking Manhattan. Samuels sits at his desk, and another attorney sits across from him, both in high-backed leather chairs. Both wear single-breasted suits. Samuels puts the phone back into its cradle.) Samuels: "He wants to talk to the FBI himself. He asked for the Director's and the CID's phone numbers." Attorney: "Hopefully we won't have another mess to clean up." Samuels (pressing the intercom button): "Susan, come in here, please. I want you to facsimile a list of numbers over to Mr. Veidt's office."

-

Page 18: Panel 1: (Adrian's office. Adrian pushes his intercom button.) Adrian: "Stefan, I want you to notify Public Affairs. Have them get in touch with John Samuels about drawing up a denial to the New Frontiersman story. I want it running internationally no later than tomorrow. And I want Nova Express to run an editorial for its next issue criticizing The New Frontiersman for muckraking and shoddy journalism." Stefan: "Right away, sir." Adrian: "Thank you."

Panel 2: (Adrian picks up the magazine and the pyramid from his desk. He flicks the pyramid and the top opens to reveal a flame. He holds the magazine and lights its edge, then drops it in a metal wastebasket by the side of his desk.)

Panel 3: (The pyramid now sits on the corner of the desk nearest the window, on the same side as the wastebasket. Adrian moves the wastebasket a little away from his desk with his foot as flames peak at its top.)

Panel 4: (Adrian at the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the landscape, the magazine burning merrily behind him.) Adrian: "I didn't start this fight, but I will end it. Nice of Hector Godfrey to offer himself up on a platter this way. I'll turn this to my great advantage."

Panel 5: (Adrian passing the wastebasket, walking back toward his desk.)

Panel 6: (Adrian standing before his phone, pushing the intercom button again.) Adrian: "One more thing, Stefan. You should be getting some phone numbers from Samuels soon. When you do, please get me the FBI Director." Stefan: "Yes, sir."

-

Page 19: Panel 1: (Adrian reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a remote. He looks up at a wall of TV screens, opposite the window.)

Panel 2: (He points the remote at one of the screens and punches a few buttons. The channel shows a picture of himself in an inset.) Newscaster: "...and calls to the New Frontiersman's editor and FBI headquarters have not been returned at this time. No statement has been released by either. In other news, the Mets play for their lives at Dodger Stadium tonight in Game 6 of the National League Championship..."

Panel 3: (Now seated in his chair and facing the screens, Adrian mutes the newscast.)

Panel 4: (An agent in classic FBI dress and carrying a manila folder rushes to a door in a utilitarian, tiled hallway. The door reads, simply:

'James P. Moynihan  
Director, CID')

Panel 5: (The agent knocks twice and opens the door.)

Panel 6: (He closes the door behind him. The waiting room is wood-paneled and contains several not-particularly-comfortable-looking chairs, an end table with several magazines on it, a desk with a secretary sitting before it, and a plain-looking door to her right.) Secretary: "Good morning, Special Agent Carson."

-

Page 20: Panel 1: (The intercom to the secretary's right buzzes.) Moynihan: "Send him in *now*."

Panel 2: (The secretary makes a gesture to indicate that the agent should fix his tie. He nods and smiles at her, his free hand at his tie.)

Panel 3: (The agent opens the door to reveal a well-appointed, plush office. An expensive desk filled with files, a phone, and a computer console sits on a deep blue pile carpet. A credenza filled with books sits on the wall behind the high-backed leather chair. An American flag stands on the right side, a flag with the symbol of the FBI on it is on the left, and a framed photograph of President Ford hangs on the wall. A chair sits directly in front of the desk. The chair is pushed back against the credenza and the Director is standing with his fists on the desk, none too happy. His tie is loosened and he looks like he hasn't gotten much sleep.) Moynihan: "Special Agent Carson. Sit down." Carson: "Yes, sir. Good morning, sir."

Panel 4: (The Director is plainly not happy. Carson takes his seat. POV from behind Carson.) Moynihan: "No, Carson, it is not a particularly good morning. It's not even a mediocre morning. Guess who I just got off the phone with?" Carson: "Umm, Director Summers?" Moynihan: "Give that man a prize. I knew there was a reason we made you a Special Agent." (Carson is diplomatically silent.)

Panel 5: (Side shot of both men.) Moynihan: "I'll bet you can even guess what the topic under discussion was." Carson: "Yes, sir, I think I know all too well." Moynihan: "Alright, then perhaps you can tell me how a magazine got information about a secret and very preliminary investigation? The Director is threatening to crawl up my ass with a microscope, and you know who will suffer when that happens." Carson, mumbling: "Shit rolls downhill..."

Panel 6: (Same shot.) Director: "What?" Carson: "Yes, sir." Moynihan: "That's what I thought you said. Do you have any answers for me?" Carson: "Well, sir, I have a preliminary list of everyone that had knowledge of the investigation." (He places it on the Director's desk.) Carson: "I've also transmitted a copy to the Internal Investigation Officer."

-

Page 21: Panel 1: (The Director picks up the file and sits heavily in his chair.) Moynihan: "What else? Likely suspects?" Carson, adjusting his tie: "Most of them, sir. Any number could have had motives. However, the nature of the leak indicates that it wasn't someone with operational knowledge or, if it was, the reporter they talked to got it wrong." Moynihan: "Do any have ties to the New Frontiersman?" Carson: "I'm having that checked now, sir. It will be several hours at least before I have preliminary answers, unless an obvious link is discovered."

Panel 2: (Close-up of the Director.) Moynihan: "I need you on a shuttle flight to the New York office within the hour. The warrant will be ready by the time you get there. This has absolute top priority. Nothing else goes forward before this investigation is done. And I want you to talk to no one but me, the Director, or the IIO about it. Everything by the book."

Panel 3: (Side shot of both.) Carson: "Absolutely, sir." Moynihan, muttering: "Someone's going down for this one, and it won't be me." Moynihan: "Alright, that's all for now. Let me know the second you get anything, no matter how small." Carson: "Yes, sir."

Panel 4: (Carson leaves through the door; the secretary is standing on the other side so that he has room to pass.)

Panel 5: (The secretary inside Moynihan's office, the door closed behind her.) Moynihan: "Yes, Miss Heller?" Miss Heller: "Sir, I have a message from Adrian Veidt. He called a few minutes ago."

Panel 6: (View from behind Miss Heller; she's primly dressed in a conservative pant suit and standing in front of Moynihan's desk now; he's still seated in his chair.) Moynihan: "Wonderful. What does he have to say?" Miss Heller: "He asked some specific questions that I turned aside, then offered a list of a thousand Democratic candidates to whom he contributed $2000 each. I told him I wasn't sure what value it might have, but that he should feel free to send it over." Moynihan: "Well done, Miss Heller. Thank you."

-

Page 22: Panel 1: (View from outside, Miss Heller walking out the door, turned toward Moynihan, still sitting behind her.) Moynihan: "When and if you get that list, please copy the Director, the IIO, and Special Agent Carson on it. And get me the New York Bureau Chief." Miss Heller: "Yes, sir."

Panel 2: (Moynihan reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out an opened roll of BufferAll antacid. No Veidt logo is in evidence.) Moynihan: "I'm getting too old for this."

Panel 3: (He pops an antacid into his mouth and chews, then turns to his computer.)

Panel 4: (Press room at FBI Headquarters. It's as full as it's ever been. TV reporters and cameramen fill all the seats or stand around the room. A man in a grey suit and dark blue tie walks in. He steps up to the podium on a raised stage; a large FBI symbol adorns the wall behind him. Immediately the place is filled with a babel of voices.) Reporter #1: "Mr. Smith!" Reporter #2: "Sir! Do you have any comment on the New Frontiersman article?" Reporter #3 (facing his camera): "Tom Siemens for WNBS News. The scene at FBI headquarters is chaotic..." Reporter #4: "The FBI Press Liaison is about to speak..."

Panel 5: (The liaison raises his hands and bellows): "This press conference will not continue until everyone is QUIET!" (The hubbub dies down; the only noise now is muffled whispers.) "That's better. Now, then, let's have some semblance of order here. You will speak only when invited to. Are we clear? Good."

Panel 6: (The liaison's hands are now on the podium.) Liaison: "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Robert Smith. I'm the FBI's Press Liaison, and I will have a short statement, after which point there will be a short question-and-answer period. I will not hesitate to eject anyone who doesn't abide by simple etiquette."

-

Page 23: Panel 1: (He launches into his statement without preamble.) Smith: "While it is FBI policy not to comment on investigations, the circumstances of this situation dictate some explanation. As I'm sure you know by now, the magazine The New Frontiersman has published an article claiming that Adrian Veidt is under criminal investigation by the FBI. This is not the case."

Panel 2: (Print journalists are scribbling furiously, and there are muffled noises, but no outbreaks.) Smith: "The FBI conducted a routine investigation of campaign donations to a multitude of candidates during the campaign season. Mr. Veidt's name was included on a list of donors to Democratic candidates; however, and let me stress this, he is neither a suspect nor has there been any indication of impropriety on his part in any way. Any report otherwise is, quite simply, untrue. Now, then, are there any questions?"

Panel 3: (About forty hands go up. Smith indicates a reporter sitting in the front row.) Reporter #1: "Is it true that Mr. Veidt gave over two million dollars in campaign donations?" Smith: "I don't know the exact amount, but as I understand it, that is a good ballpark figure. Next? You." Reporter #2: "Where did the New Frontiersman reporter get his information?" Smith: "You should know better than that. No comment. Next? Yes."

Panel 4: Reporter #3: "How could he have donated that much money legally?" Smith: "I'd suggest you do some legwork on that, but I'm not aware of any case in which Mr. Veidt donated more to any single candidate than the maximum amount allowable by law. Yes? You." Reporter #4: "What is that amount?" Smith: "It varies depending on the city, state, or district, but for most offices determined in the general election it's $2000. Now, then, does anyone have any questions directly relating to the Bureau, or are we done? Yes."

Panel 5: Reporter #5: "Are you investigating the source for the New Frontiersman article?" Smith: "No comment. Anything else? Alright, thank you for your time and attention."

Panel 6: (Veidt's office; he's sitting in his chair watching the press conference end. On the TV, Smith walks out the door of the press room amid a general hubbub.)

-

Page 24: Panel 1: (Hector Godfrey in his office at The New Frontiersman; he's seated in his chair in exactly the same position as Veidt is in the previous panel, leaning back in his chair, legs extended and feet crossed. He's also watching the press conference on a large TV, holding a remote. Same shot as above on the TV. Hector's phone rings.)

Panel 2: (Hector sits up and grimaces, knowing what's coming.) Hector: "Hector Godfrey. Yes, Mr. Greene, I just got finished watching it. He was a freelancer who works for us on and off, name of Willie Brown. Or, I should say, worked. He guaranteed me the information was correct, but wouldn't reveal his source."

Panel 3: (He reaches for a folder on his desk.) Hector: "How am I supposed to verify an anonymous source? And how would you suggest I confirm an FBI investigation? They don't just hand out that kind of information."

Panel 4: (Hector looking sour.) Hector: "Yes. I've drafted a retraction for the next issue. It will run on page 3, in the Editorials section. I realize how serious this is. Yes, sir. Mmhmm. Alright. Goodbye, Mr. Greene."

Panel 5: (Hector scrubbing his face with his free hand as he hangs up the phone. He looks up to see Seymour standing at the door.) Hector: "We're in it now, m'boy. The pinkos'll try to crucify us." Seymour, looking distressed: "Should I start looking for another job?"

Panel 6: (Close-up of Hector; he looks fatigued.) Hector: "Might not be a bad idea. Might not be bad at all."

-

Page 25: Panel 1: (Sam's basement. He's sitting at the PC connected to the server and typing at the keyboard.)

Panel 2: (Sam moves to the other PC and inserts a 3-1/2" disk into the floppy drive, types in commands, and the 'da-dong da-dong da-dong' of a modem is heard. Today's issue of the Gazette is folded into quarters and sitting on the desk next to the keyboard; the headline of the story that's visible reads "NIXON STILL 'FIGHTING'". Photo to the right of the non-visible copy shows Nixon standing on a platform covered with bunting, giving his famous V for Victory sign, both his hands upraised and smiling widely. See Article 2.1 below.)

Panel 3: (Shot of the monitor screen. It reads: "

AUTHENTICATING...  
CONNECTED.  
300 BAUD

PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD: ********

PLEASE WAIT.  
LOGIN APPROVED.

C:\ dlcopy j:\secure\ b:

THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA.  
PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD: ********")

Panel 4: (Sam looks up to see Sandy standing near him, still wearing robe and panties, two mugs of coffee in hand. The screen has cleared, and now reads only:

DOWNLOADING...  
1.2K of 157K  
ESTIMATED DOWNLOAD TIME: 9 MIN 50 SEC")

Sandy: "A little refreshment? Sam: "Perfect timing. I was about to fall asleep waiting for this file to download. Too damn slow. Do you know, I could drive over and copy it to disk myself faster than this?" Sandy, grinning: "As a certain white-haired crimefighter tells me, the less public activity the better."

Panel 5: (Sam sipping his coffee, from over Sandy's shoulder.) Sam: "Hurm. White-haired, huh?" Sandy: "Well, in your alter ego, anyway. You manly man, you."

Panel 6: (Sam chuckles, picks up the quartered paper and swats Sandy's fanny with it.)

-

Page 26: Panel 1: (Sandy pulls the other chair over near Sam's. She takes the newspaper from his hand while she's still standing.) Sandy: "The wheels of government keep on turning, Nixon or not." Sam: "Hmm? Oh, yes."

Panel 2: (Sandy reclined in the leather chair, her legs up on the desk and reading the newspaper. Very reminiscent of her father at the Crimebusters meeting, only she's not smoking. View centered on the computer screen, showing their profiles to either side. The time on screen now reads 9 min 15 sec.) Sandy: "Adrian, you've been a bad boy." Sam: "Oddly enough, he's innocent." Sandy: "(snort) Adrian's about as innocent as he is humble."

Panel 3: (Shot of Sam.) Sam: "No, no...I just saw it on the news. The Feds are falling all over themselves to say Adrian isn't under suspicion."

Panel 4: (Shot of Sandy, brandishing the front page and pointing to an article in the lower left headed: "VEIDT ACCUSED OF CORRUPTION". It's the same copy Sam was reading at breakfast.) Sandy: "Then what's this all about?"

Panel 5: (Back to Sam.) Sam: "I'd say that's about libel proceedings against the New Frontiersman."

Panel 6: (Shot of both, Sam sipping his coffee. The download time now reads 7 min 12 sec.) Sandy: "Not the brightest bulbs in the box, are they? Why would they hang themselves out to dry like that?" Sam: "You never know...maybe they were hung out...or at least given enough rope. Maybe Adrian has enemies we don't know about, or it's Adrian himself. I'll start looking into it once the download is done."

-

Page 27: Panel 1: (Sandy, with her face screwed into an expression of distaste.) Sandy: "The Teflon man gets a ding, even if it's not true. Good for him. He deserves so much more..."

Panel 2: (Sam putting his mug down on the desk.) Sam: "Be that as it may, I wouldn't bet against Adrian. By now he's on top of things, figuring out how to wring every last benefit from the situation."

Panel 3: (Sandy putting the paper down on the desk, sitting upright, looking over at Sam. The screen reads 6 min 59 sec. She looks like a stormcloud brewing.) Sandy: "I want to make that man pay. Until we do something about it, his shadow will hang over us." Sam: "That's much easier said then done, m'dear. We need every advantage before we can even think about taking him down." Sandy: "I know, it just...frustrates me."

Panel 4: (Sam with a wry grin.) Sam: "I never would have guessed."

Panel 5: (Sam has lost his grin.) Sam: "We're building toward it, though. Adrian took almost twenty years to plan and pull off his own personal genocide. Rome wasn't burned in a day."

Panel 6: (Sandy, deadly serious now.) Sandy: "Millions of souls crying out for justice..." "I hope I live to see him die. I'll spit on his grave."

-

Page 28: Panel 1: (Sam sipping from his mug.) Sam: "You should appreciate Greek tragedy more, sweetie. I'd prefer to see him imprisoned for life as a symbol of man's inhumanity to man. Prometheus bound."

Panel 2: (Wide shot again. His mug is back on the desk. The screen reads 6 min 22 sec.) Sam: "Greek tragedy abounds with stories of men (and women) who are struck down by the gods for their pride, the tragic heroes. Oedipus, for instance: he killed his father and slept with his mother unknowingly because of his pride, and in the end blinded himself out of guilt." Sandy: "Such perfectly uplifting stories your Greeks have!"

Panel 3: (The screen reads 6 min 12 sec.) Sam: "It's a cautionary tale. The moral is: don't get above yourself or the gods themselves will strike you down. Or, in biblical terms, pride goeth before a fall."

Panel 4: (The screen reads 6 min 5 sec.) Sandy: "Where are the gods now? Why haven't they ground Adrian into little Veidtburgers?" Sam: "His tragedy isn't finished yet. As for the gods, they're personifications of the unexplained, symbols of powers beyond ourselves that weigh humanity. They're outlets for the urge to spirituality, and sources of conflict and learning."

Panel 5: (Sandy getting up from her chair and leaning over toward Sam.) Sandy: "You know what, smart guy?" Sam: "What?"

Panel 6: (Sandy sitting in Sam's lap.) Sandy: "Sometimes you're too smart for your own good." (She kisses him.)

End panel: "Only the dead have seen the end of war." - Plato

-----

Article 2.1

News page mockup:

NIXON STILL 'FIGHTING'

San Clemente, CA - Despite reports to the contrary, an internist on the staff of ex-President Richard Nixon categorically denied that his charge's health has deteriorated in the last few weeks. In a statement released to the press, Dr. Raymond Alpert invoked Mark Twain to answer recent rumors that the President is at death's door:

"It has been reported in several periodicals that President Nixon is fighting for his life. I don't know who their sources are, but on behalf of the entire family, I would like to state that this is not the case. The President is resting comfortably and is in no danger. He is under the best of medical care and he is a fighter. In short, reports of his demise have been greatly exaggerated.

"I would once again like to acknowledge the millions of well-wishers who have sent cards, letters, and telegrams. Your support is very much appreciated; it gladdens the President and family to know he is so highly regarded. There's every reason to believe he'll be able to appreciate it for a long time to come. Thank you for your prayers."

Dr. Alpert is a board-certified neurologist who was most recently a staff member at Walter Reed Hospital. He joined President Nixon's medical team after the dignitary collapsed backstage at a campaign stop in Canton, Ohio on April 2. Mr. Nixon was scheduled to speak at a gathering of American Legion members.

The President was rushed to Mercy Medical Center in Canton, where he was initially listed in 'critical but stable' condition. He was diagnosed with a transient ischemic attack (TIA, or stroke). Within hours it was determined that he would no longer be able to execute the duties of his office, and Vice President Gerald Ford was sworn in as the 38th President of the United States.

President Nixon's condition was upgraded to serious six days later, and he was airlifted to Walter Reed Hospital, where he convalesced for several weeks before returning to his home in San Clemente. In weekly updates since that time, the President has been variously termed as 'improving,' 'alert,' and 'fighting.'

(Photo to the right of the copy shows Nixon standing on a platform covered with bunting, giving his famous V for Victory sign, both his hands upraised and smiling widely. The caption reads: "President Nixon speaking in Reading, PA just days before he suffered a stroke.")


	3. Evolutions

Chapter III: Evolutions

Cover page: Back-alley, the street brightly lit and far in the background. Palamedes facing the reader, the street exit at his back, diving behind a dumpster. He's wearing what looks similar to greyish stormtrooper armor beneath a white toga. His mask is white, a Greek actor's mask, with hair sculpted into it in white, and eyeholes. The mask ends at his upper lip and sweeps down at about a 45-degree angle so that his mouth and chin are entirely visible. Grey padding covers his neck. There are a couple of puddles to the side that his legs are pointing toward, with a bullet-splash in each. A knot-top type stands with his back to the reader, firing a pistol, tracking on Palamedes. Duality is in the foreground, about to kidney-punch the knot-top from behind.)

-

Page 1: Panel 1: (half-page. View looking out from a hangar: a black UH-1 Iroquois from the side, its door open. Two vague figures are in the cockpit. There are no markings other than the aircraft ID in white. Special Agent David Carson is just inside the hangar, talking into a bulky, portable phone, his back to the chopper. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his tie is semi-undone, and he has his coat over a satchel sitting near the wall of the hangar. He's wearing a pair of mirrored sunglasses and has a finger in the other ear.) Carson: "Chief Van Dyk, please." "Bull? It's Dave Carson. Yeah." "I assume you know what I'm calling about? Good."

Panel 2: (Same shot.) "Eyeballs on this one, Bull. I need the place shut down by the book, and yesterday. As a matter of fact, clear the entire block out front. The further away the press are, the better." "I'll bet stringers are there already. Aside from that, everything should be routine."

Panel 3: (Carson wandering further into the hangar, chopper behind him.) Carson: "And I'll need transport to the site when I land. ETA is about an hour and a half. Sit on things until I get there, will ya?" "Do you have a warrant yet? Great. I'll see you soonest."

Panel 4: (Carson near the wall, coat in one hand and placing the phone into the open satchel. The chopper's still in the background, blades spinning.)

-

Page 2: Panel 1: (Carson from behind, halfway to the chopper, coat and satchel in his left hand, slightly crouched.) (In its own color box distinct from Rorschach's journal entries; the text looks handwritten in ink) (bottom) "Case Notes, 10/11/88. 11:15 My 'shuttle flight' turns out to be a big, black bird."

Panel 2: (Carson stepping up into the cargo bay. The copilot, in flight suit and helmet, can be seen inside.) Case Notes (bottom): "Good thing I haven't had lunch yet."

Panel 3: (The door shut, Carson seated and visible through the rear window.) Case Notes (bottom): "These rollercoaster rides play hell with my stomach."

Panel 4: (half-page: view from the front; the chopper takes off from the pad, nose slightly downward. The hangar is in the background, and more of Dulles International Airport can be seen behind that.)

-

Page 3: Panel 1: (Interior of Burgers 'N' Borscht. A gumchewing teenager is at the register now, no nametag in evidence. Several members of the press are seated in booths, eating or having coffee. General low buzz of talking.)

Panel 2: (View through windows onto the street. People walking down the street stop and look south.)

Panel 3: (Outside view with the Burgers 'N' Borscht on the extreme left. Six cars come to the intersection from the south, in columns of three, two NYPD cruisers leading the way, followed by two black Lincoln Mark VII's, and trailed by two more NYPD cars. The police have their lights on but there are no sirens.)

Panel 4: (Reporters, cameramen, stringers, and spectators boil out of the Burgers 'N' Borscht. One of them is Seymour, Hector Godfrey's assistant. The lead four cars have turned right, kitty-corner from the diner, and are heading down the block. The last two now prevent entry into the block, one behind the other lengthways across it. The drivers are out of their open doors, standing in front of their cars, gesturing for the small crowd to stop.)

Panel 5: (Their partners are at their open trunks, pulling out yellow plastic barriers. The Lincolns are stopped in front of a building near the far end of the block, and the lead cruisers have just reached the end of the block.) Cop #1 (at the B&B intersection): "Alright folks, this is a crime scene now. No one goes down this block." (General groans from the press. Cop on the newsstand's corner gestures for Fitz and a couple of customers to come to the corner. The watch-seller's table is no longer in evidence; no one seems to have taken over since the advent of the squid.)

Panel 6: (View of the NE corner, toward the Promethean Cab Company. A couple of print reporters with notebooks open, one with a microphone pointed toward Cop #1. Somebody tries to slide by in the background and the cop setting up the barricade pulls him back.) Reporter #1 (mic at her mouth): "What crime?" Cop #1: "I don't know. I just know I'm supposed to secure this intersection." Reporter #2: "Looks like they're in front of Pioneer Publishing." Reporter #3 (to Reporter #2): "I knew there was a reason they gave you a pencil." (General laughter from the reporters.)

-

Page 4: Panel 1: (Front of Pioneer Publishing, the Lincolns double-parked in front of it. Five FBI agents getting out of the cars. From the front passenger side of the lead Lincoln comes Sture ('Bull') Van Dyk, a 6'5", burly Scandinavian man with brush-cut blonde hair. He towers over the rest of the agents.)

Panel 2: (Two of the agents move to clear people from the street, and Van Dyk and the remaining two go to the door to Pioneer Publishing's building.) Van Dyk: "Alright, there shouldn't be any trouble. No guns blazing but stay frosty." "You two secure the presses and I'll take care of the office. Go."

Panel 3: (View from inside the building through the open door to the street. White fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling light the hallway. The agents are just entering the building; the "Pioneer Publishing" plaque is up on the right wall from the viewer's perspective. No one is in the hall. A metallic clacking can be heard.)

Panel 4: (View from further down the hall; there's a solid door in the left wall. One of the agents listens quietly at the door. The clacking can be heard through it. Van Dyk moves past them down the hall.)

Panel 5: (Both agents are at the now-open door, with badges out. Beyond them are a series of printing presses, stacks of papers, carts, and various other tools of a printing company. About a half-dozen people are visible, each wearing a headset to muffle the noise of the presses. The noise is enough to make normal speaking impossible.)

Panel 6: (Striding confidently into the warehouse-sized room, the first agent holds his badge up high and attracts the attention of the apparent foreman. The agent beckons to him. A couple of the other people look curiously in the agent's direction.)

-

Page 5: Panel 1: (Shot of the entry to Hector Godfrey's office. He's thumbing through a file cabinet when Van Dyk walks in. Shot from Van Dyk's point of view, Hector looking surprised but not shocked.) Van Dyk: "Mr. Godfrey?" Hector: "Let me guess. You're either Secret Service or FBI, and I don't see an earpiece."

Panel 2: (Shot of Van Dyk, showing his badge to Hector. It's clearly visible, the badge in an opened fold-out and his FBI ID in the other side.) Van Dyk: "Very good, Mr. Godfrey."

Panel 3: (Shot of Hector over Van Dyk's shoulder; his eyes get big as he looks at the ID.) Hector: "Bull Van Dyk? The Hero of Hai Phong?" Van Dyk (nodding): "That was a long time ago..." Hector: "I remember it like it was yesterday! I covered your story when I worked for the Gazette. Must be pretty important for the Bureau Chief to take a personal interest. Ah, but sit down, please."

Panel 4: (Shot of both, sitting on either side of the desk. A phone, rolodex, and electric typewriter sit on the desk. Van Dyk fills out his chair impressively. Hector is smiling widely.) Van Dyk: "Don't read too much into it. I like to keep my hand in; I take command of the scene every once in a while. Now, I appreciate the adulation, but there's business to be dealt with. Just for the record, you are Hector Godfrey?" Hector: "Yes."

Panel 5: (Shot of Van Dyk handing a folded page across the desk.) Van Dyk: "Here's your warrant. We'll impound your records here, and interview all of your employees. Agents are in the warehouse shutting down the presses temporarily, until we can get statements from everybody down there. Once they're done, you can restart the presses. Shouldn't be more than an hour or two."

Panel 6: (Shot of both, Van Dyk now with pen and small notepad in hand, opened. Hector frowns as he reads the unfolded warrant.) Van Dyk: "Any regular employees who aren't here now?" Hector: "Yeah, one guy I sent to get some lunch. He should be back soon." Van Dyk: "Name?" Hector: "Seymour Smith." Van Dyk: "Description?" Hector: "About 5'9", 25 years old, kind of chubby, red hair, freckles."

-

Page 6: Panel 1: (Van Dyk, holding pen and notepad in one hand and talking into a walkie-talkie in the other.) Van Dyk: "Attention roadblocks. Look for white male, mid-20's, 5'9", red hair, heavy build, named Seymour Smith. He's an employee here. Deliver to me ASAP. Over." Cop #1 (through walkie-talkie): "Copy that." Cop #2 (through walkie-talkie): "10-4."

Panel 2: (Shot of both, Van Dyk back to having pen in one hand and notepad in the other.) Van Dyk: "We may as well get your preliminary interview out of the way now. Who wrote the story in question?" Hector: "A freelancer we use every once in a while named Willie Brown." Van Dyk: "Any idea of his whereabouts?" Hector: "I can get you his mailing address. Just a second."

Panel 3: (Hector shuffles his Rolodex.) Hector: "Yeah, here it is." Van Dyk: "Mind if I use your phone?" Hector: "Sure, go ahead."

Panel 4: (Hector hands a Rolodex card to Van Dyk, who has the phone cradled against his ear, dialing with one hand as he takes the card with the other.) Van Dyk: "Thank you."

Panel 5: (Shot of both; Hector sits with his hands folded on his desk as Van Dyk talks into the phone.) Van Dyk: "Central? This is Chief Van Dyk. I need a suspect pickup. Name: Willie J. Brown. Residence is 220 W. 120th St., Apt. 9. Return for interrogation. If suspect isn't at location, stake it out until further orders. And I'll need a full runup on him. Thank you."

Panel 6: (Shot of both; the phone is now back in its cradle.) Van Dyk: "Alright, walk me through the process of the article's publication, from the beginning."

-

Page 7: Panel 1: (The outside of the FBI complex in New York, a cement helipad visible. Two FBI agents stand near the pad. Special Agent Carson's Iroquois can be seen vaguely in the distance.)

Panel 2: (Same shot, the chopper now about to touch down on the helipad.) Case Notes (bottom): "I'll never get used to these things. Man was not meant to fly inside some kind of giant dragonfly."

Panel 3: (Same shot, the chopper now landed and the door open, Carson climbing out. He has his coat and satchel in one hand and a plastic bag filled with vomit in the other. He looks green around the gills. One of the agents approaches, gesturing for Carson to come toward him.)

Panel 4: (As soon as they're out of the prop wash, the chopper takes off again in the direction of Laguardia Airport. The agents' hair is being blown into strange shapes. Carson and one agent are shaking hands.) Agent #1: "Welcome to New York, Special Agent Carson. I'm Agent Beckwith." Carson: "Thank you."

Panel 5: (Carson turned toward the other agent, handing him his barf bag.) Carson: "Take care of this for me, will you?" Agent #2: "Yes, sir."

Panel 6: (Carson and Beckwith walking toward some stairs that lead below the helipad, toward the FBI offices, the other agent trailing, holding the bag gingerly.) Beckwith: "You look the worse for wear. Anything we can get you?" Carson: "How about a vat of coffee?" Beckwith: "Hahaha...the lifeblood of law enforcement. Sure, this way."

-

Page 8: Panel 1: (Shot from behind Agents Beckwith and Carson. Beckwith is driving another Lincoln. A portable compass sits in the middle of the dashboard, showing a couple of points east of north. A crossed street sign can be seen through the front window, standing on the corner; it reads "7th Ave." and "24th St." Looking up 7th Ave., there are a few taxis moving up and down the avenue, and some cars parked on the street. Parking spaces are available on the curb. Carson sits in the front passenger seat, sipping his coffee, looking toward Beckwith; the rearview mirror shows a red flasher sitting in the back window, doing its thing. Carson is now wearing his suit coat, his tie done up properly.) Beckwith: "It shouldn't take more than five minutes to get there." Carson: "This place used to be packed with traffic. It's lunchtime, ferchrissakes." (long burp) "Sorry about that." Beckwith: "No problem. I get airsick too." Carson: "I usually don't, but those damn choppers get me every time."

Panel 2: (Exterior shot, the Lincoln speeding past the refurbished Madison Square Garden complex.) Beckwith: "Just about the only good thing that came of the alien squid. You can go miles now without seeing a traffic jam or accident." Carson: "Three years, and the place still isn't back to normal." Beckwith: "I don't know if it'll ever be the same. People have long memories on this one." Carson: "They'll come back, eventually. Too much good real estate here. Memories are short where there's a profit involved. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can."

Panel 3: (Interior shot again. Carson pointing forward, through the windshield.) Carson: "There you go: a traffic jam." Beckwith: "That's where we're headed."

Panel 4: (Exterior shot of the B&B intersection. Beckwith's Lincoln is now double-parked near the rear police cruiser. Both agents are out of the car, Beckwith moving toward the cop standing on the crowd side of the police cruisers, his ID wallet open.) Carson: "I need more coffee. I'll be right back. Deal with this guy, will you?" Beckwith: "You got it."

Panel 5: (Interior of the B&B, Carson at the counter, paying the teenage cashier for his coffee. A small knot of reporters surrounds him.) Cashier: "Let's see...large coffee and dry white toast. That'll be $1.85, please. " Carson: "Here you go." Cashier: "Thank you." Reporter #1: "Excuse me, are you a federal agent?" Carson, drolly, without skipping a beat: "No, I'm a musician. No comment, people."

Panel 6: (Same shot, but Carson is now walking out the door carrying his coffee and a small brown bag, the reporters in tow. The crowd can be seen through the window; it's grown so that it fills up the corners of the street closest to the B&B. Several cameramen have their cameras aimed toward the Pioneer Publishing building. Agent Beckwith is standing with the cop, talking to him.) Case Notes (upper box): "Rooting around in others' tragedy and dirt, it rubs off on them. There are only two forms of life lower than reporters: lawyers and politicians." (box at bottom): "I wish they weren't quite so necessary an evil."

-

Page 9: Panel 1: (The B&B intersection, long shot. Beckwith is in his car; the rear cruiser has pulled back enough for him to get through. Carson walking towards Beckwith's car, gesturing behind him as a reporter tries to ask him something.)

Panel 2: (Same shot; Carson is in Beckwith's car. It's between the cruisers now, heading toward Pioneer Publishing.)

Panel 3: (Same shot. Beckwith's car is now behind the other FBI cars in front of Pioneer Publishing. The rear cruiser is in its original place, blocking the intersection.)

Panel 4: (Close shot of Beckwith and Carson walking through the entrance to Pioneer Publishing. The clacking sound is gone now; the door leading to the presses is open and the two agents can be seen with a knot of people around them. Among them is Seymour.) Beckwith, talking through a walkie-talkie: "Chief? Special Agent Carson and I are here." Van Dyk's voice, coming through it: "Excellent. Help the agents take statements there, and send Carson down the hall and to the left. I'm in the office with Mr. Godfrey." Beckwith: "Yes, sir."

Panel 5: (Carson nods at Beckwith and heads toward the office as Beckwith moves through the open door.)

Panel 6: (Shot over Carson's shoulder, looking in at Van Dyk and Godfrey. Van Dyk has risen and is moving toward Carson, smiling and with his hand extended.) Carson: "Well, if it isn't the Bull himself! How's it going, big man?" Van Dyk: "Can't complain. Are you still giving them fits at HQ?" Carson, laughing: "Only as much as they do me."

-

Page 10: Panel 1: (Side shot of Carson and Van Dyk shaking hands. Godfrey has risen at his desk.)

Panel 2: (Van Dyk and Carson now disengaged, both facing Godfrey.) Van Dyk: "Special Agent David Carson, this is Hector Godfrey. Hector, Special Agent Carson." (Aside, to Carson): "Hector's been nothing if not cooperative."

Panel 3: (Carson standing over the desk, shaking Hector's hand.) Hector: "Nice to meet you, Agent Carson. Pull up a chair." Carson: "Thank you."

Panel 4: (All three are now seated, Carson and Van Dyk facing Hector across the desk. Carson has his notepad open.) Van Dyk: "Hector and I are just about finished. I have an APB out for the author of the Veidt article, a freelancer. Do you have any questions for him?" Carson: "One or two. This shouldn't take too long, Mr. Godfrey." Hector: "Certainly. What did you want to know?"

Panel 5: (Same shot.) Carson: "Well, I'm curious how the article got published in the first place. I assume you fact-check all your stories?" Hector: "Yes, of course. Willie Brown's a solid reporter. He's done several full-length articles for us; I've never had any reason to doubt his veracity in any way. He protected his source when we spoke, but he assured me the article was correct. The problem here was the difficulty of getting confirmation from you folks."

Panel 6: (Same shot, Carson writing in his notepad.) Carson: "I see. How did you confirm it?" Hector: "Well, I called up the DC office several times, but I got nothing but runaround. 'Leave a message, we'll get back to you,' that sort of thing. After a week of that with no response from your folks, I decided to run it anyway."

-

Page 11: Panel 1: (Carson, looking up at Hector over his notepad, Van Dyk in the background.) Carson: "I'm sure you're aware that we don't normally comment on possible investigations in any way." Hector: "Yes, I got that impression." Carson: "Wouldn't you say publishing was a little rash?" Hector: "Look, Agent Carson, we both know I was never going to get any confirmation from your end. In the absence of any realistic way to confirm, I made a judgment call, and based on Willie's track record I decided to run with it."

Panel 2: (Carson frowning at Hector.) Carson: "Bad call. Adrian Veidt isn't someone to trifle with. Nor is the Bureau, for that matter." Hector: "Yes, well, hindsight is 20/20."

Panel 3: (Same shot.) Carson: "I wouldn't try that as a legal argument, and I have a feeling you'll be needing one." Hector: "Does that mean you'll be prosecuting?" Carson: "That's not up to me, but I can practically guarantee Veidt will be suing you at the very least."

Panel 4: (Same shot; Hector looks ill.) Hector: "Wonderful. Just what I need." Carson: "We're going to impound your records as well. They'll be returned to you once we have copies of everything pertinent to the investigation. I'll have a couple of agents come to box everything up. In the meantime, I'd suggest you copy anything that's absolutely essential to daily operation. There's no telling how long it'll be before we can get it back to you."

Panel 5: (Hector pulling out a pack of cigarettes.) Carson: "And Mr. Brown didn't reveal to you his source, or sources?" Hector: "No, he wouldn't."

Panel 6: (Hector offering the pack across the desk.) Hector: "Have a smoke?" Carson: "No." Van Dyk: "No, thank you."

-

Page 12: Panel 1: (Same shot, Carson turned toward Van Dyk, and Hector lighting his cigarette with a disposable lighter.) Carson: "Bull, would you call Agent Beckwith in here, please?" Van Dyk: "Sure."

Panel 2: (Same shot, Van Dyk with his walkie-talkie in his hand and talking into it, Hector with his hand to his forehead, smoking, and Carson jotting down notes in his pad.) Van Dyk: "Agent Beckwith, would you come to the office, please?" Beckwith (through the walkie-talkie): "Be there in a minute, Chief."

Panel 3: (Carson looking up at Hector again.) Carson: "Mr. Godfrey, do you have any computers in the office?" Hector: "No, we do everything the old-fashioned way here. The budget wouldn't allow it even if I wanted one."

Panel 4: (Beckwith walks in the door. Carson gets up and turns toward him. Hector flicks the ash from his cigarette into a wastebasket on the floor. The cigarette is half-smoked now.) Carson: "Ah, Agent Beckwith. I'd like you to oversee the packaging of all documents, please. Have the other agents help you once they're finished taking statements." Beckwith: "Yes, sir."

Panel 5: (Carson turns back to Hector.) Carson: "I doubt I need to say this now, but you're prohibited from discussing anything having to do with this investigation with anyone except your attorney." Hector, looking down at the desk: "Yes, yes, of course."

Panel 6: (Same shot.) Carson: "Well, I think I'll take a look at the presses. Care to come along, Bull?" Van Dyk: "Sounds good to me." Carson: "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Godfrey." Hector, absently: "You're welcome."

-

Page 13: Panel 1: (Carson and Van Dyk at the foot of the stairs. Van Dyk is several inches taller than Carson. The presses' clacking has stopped.) Carson, whispering: "So what do you think about Godfrey's story?" Van Dyk: "I think he was pretty straight with us. Never any hesitation in answering my questions; I didn't detect any lies. He's a good enough sort, if a little extremist and a conspiracy nut." Carson: "Well, he's reaped the whirlwind this time." Van Dyk: "Truly."

Panel 2: (Same shot.) Van Dyk: "I've got a team out to gather up the author and they should have his file by the time we get back to the Bureau. I doubt we'll get much that's useful out of the rest of the employees, but it's best to be thorough, especially on this one." Carson: "Yeah, the Director is all over this, along with half the world's news agencies."

Panel 3: (The two move down the corridor toward the open door to the presses.) Carson: "How's Betty doing these days?" Van Dyk: "Eh, she's alright, I guess. Since Christian went to college last month she's been suffering from empty nest syndrome. But she'll get over it, find something to do." "Speaking of which, I'm sure she'd love to see you. Maybe I can see about throwing another barbecue."

Panel 4: (Shot of Carson, grinning.) Carson: "Are you kidding? One of your infamous barbecues? I wouldn't miss it." Van Dyk: "You still be around on Saturday?" Carson: "I will now."

Panel 5: (They're at the door.) Van Dyk: "Excellent. I'll make sure there are plenty of bibs." The two, in unison: "Because one is never enough! Hahaha!"

Panel 6: (Shot from behind them, walking through the door. An agent and Seymour can be seen through the glass window of an office adjoining the presses, talking. The rest of the employees surround the other agent.)

-

Page 14: Panel 1:


End file.
